


'Tis the Damn Season

by TrisPrior111



Category: Nightwish, Tarja Turunen - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Nightwish - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28419753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrisPrior111/pseuds/TrisPrior111
Summary: It's the day after Christmas in 2006, and everything in Tarja's life is uncertain. Being back in her hometown gives her the familiarity and comfort she's been craving but also brings back nostalgia for the past, and specifically, a certain person from her past. She visits the music school where she studied as a teenager and is surprised to see a familiar face. One shot. Title and lyrics are from 'Tis the Damn Season by Taylor Swift.
Relationships: Tarja Turunen/Tuomas Holopainen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	'Tis the Damn Season

Kitee, Finland; December 26, 2006

If I wanted to know who you were hanging with  
While I was gone, I would've asked you  
It's the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass  
But I felt it when I passed you  
There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me  
But if it's all the same to you  
It's the same to me

Tarja hated the day after Christmas. Everything seemed so quiet, so empty, after the festivities of the day before. Just yesterday, the snow falling outside had seemed magical as she had watched it from inside the living room, singing Christmas carols with her father and brothers by the crackling fire.

Now, she trudged through the fresh snow with the afternoon winter sunlight beating down on her, wondering how it could possibly look so bleak. She walked past a house where a man was on a ladder in the driveway, pulling down a strand of lights and rolling them over a plastic claw. The unlit multicolored bulbs looked pale and washed out in the light.

Marcelo had left early that morning to go back to Argentina for work, but she had decided to stay in Finland for a bit longer. There was something about being back in her hometown that always brought her peace, which was something she was in desperate need of.

She continued walking down the winding road, pulling her scarf farther up as the sharp cold bit at her neck and face. After a while, the familiar path widened onto the entrance to the music school of Central Carelia, where she, as well as the other members of Nightwish, had studied when they were young. She hadn’t been consciously thinking about where she was going when she was walking, but she wasn’t surprised to find herself there.

Being back in Kitee always made her nostalgic for those years when, even though they hadn’t been the happiest for her, the world had seemed wide open and everything had been so simple. And nowhere was the nostalgia stronger than right here. 

The wooden building was covered with snow, and the large windows framing the main door were dark, but it was still the same as she remembered it. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend she was a young girl again, carrying her bag full of sheet music over her shoulder as she walked into the main hall. She could almost hear the orchestras playing and the sound of Professor Dimov’s low, gentle voice with his Bulgarian accent, explaining a section of music to her.

And suddenly she wished, more than anything, to go back to those days. Before the media circus the past year had been. Before the fallout. Before Nightwish’s rise to fame, before that day Tuomas had asked her if she wanted to sing for his band. Before any of it. Back to when no one had known their names, and they were just kids with dreams.

“It hasn’t changed much, has it?”

A familiar voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and she jumped before turning toward the sound to find Tuomas leaning against a nearby tree, a shy smile on his face.

She blinked once to make sure she wasn’t imagining him. “What--what are you doing here?”

He pushed himself off the tree trunk and took a step closer to her. “Same thing as you, I’d imagine. Reminiscing. Thinking about the good old days. You know.”

“Yeah,” she said, her heart thudding hard in her chest. “I … wow, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Exactly a year after her dismissal from Nightwish, she had received another letter from Tuomas, this time in the mail, apologizing for how they had handled everything. She had kept in touch with him and her other former bandmates over the past few months, but it had been nothing more than surface-level pleasantries. She hadn’t expected to see him here. But if she was being honest with herself, a part of her had hoped she would.

The expression on Tuomas’ face looked as hesitant and awkward as she felt. He took another step closer to her so they were now only about a meter apart.

“You changed your hair,” he said.

Despite the cold, she felt her cheeks flush at how his eyes were studying her. “Yeah.”

It was shorter and a few shades lighter, and she had gotten bangs. It had been a desperate attempt to break away from the misery that had consumed her in the latter part of 2005, as if changing her outer appearance would make her feel like a different person on the inside too. It hadn’t worked.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” he asked.

“Yeah, it was nice to be with family. We stayed inside and cooked all day and sang carols by the fire.”

He smiled. “That sounds nice.”

“Happy late birthday, by the way. Did you do anything fun?”

“Thanks. And pretty much the same as you, just spent time with family.”

She nodded, and there was a pause as they awkwardly looked away from each other, their gazes skirting to the music building and the snow-covered trees around them.

“How … how have you been?” he asked.

The ghost of a smile twitched at her lips. “Could we start with a less complicated question?”

“Right,” he said, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocking back and forth on his heels. “I know you hate the day after Christmas. And with everything--”

“No, no, it’s not that,” she said. “It’s just, everything’s kind of … uncertain right now. You know?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I do. We’re, well, we’re looking …” He trailed off and bit his lip.

“Looking for a new vocalist?” Tarja supplied, and Tuomas winced.

“Yeah,” he said. “I have the songs written, but we just … sorry, you probably don’t want to be hearing about all this.”

“I do, actually,” she said. Her gaze fell to the ground, and her voice became quiet. “I miss you guys.”

“I--we miss you too.”

She heard him take a deep breath, and she looked up.

“I’m sorry, Tarja. For everything. I know I said this already, but I have to say it to your face. Things hadn’t been good for a while, but there had to have been another way. We shouldn’t have done it like that. I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I hurt you too,” she whispered.

He stepped closer to her, one arm reaching out hesitantly, and without a second thought, she stepped into his embrace. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and she rested her head on his chest.

She had forgotten how it felt to hug him, how warm it was in his arms, how her head fit right under his chin, how she could feel his heartbeat faintly through his jacket. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for everything too.”

He held her closer and gently rocked them back and forth. After a few long moments, they pulled away slightly, and both of them looked out at the school.

“Want to walk around?” he asked.

She nodded. “Sure.”

I parkеd my car right between the Methodist  
And thе school that used to be ours  
The holidays linger like bad perfume  
You can run, but only so far  
I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave  
But if it's okay with you, it's okay with me

One of his hands, still on her arm from their embrace, slid down to her wrist, and she stifled a gasp as their hands clasped. This newfound peace between them felt fragile and precarious, and she didn’t dare say anything as they began walking the rest of the way toward the school, afraid of shattering it.

Tuomas reached out with the hand not holding hers to pull on the handle to the main door, and to her surprise, it opened. She followed him inside, relieved to find that the main hall was dark but slightly warmer than outside. She took in the familiar wood paneled walls, high ceilings and garlands that were strung across the doors to the classrooms.

“This was one of my theory classrooms,” she said, pointing to a door on their right.

Tuomas nodded. “Mine too, I think.”

They turned the corner at the end of the hall, and Tarja smiled as they passed a door with a small window at the top.

“This is where I had my voice lessons.” She ran her hand over the chipping evergreen paint on the surface and got on her tiptoes to look through the window. A piano sat in the corner, and two chairs with grey cushions were situated on opposite walls, a music stand in front of one of them, someone’s sheet music still laying open.

They continued walking until they got to the old practice rooms.

“Now this brings back memories,” Tuomas said. He gestured to a room at the end of the hall where they could see the piano and chairs through the window. “Do you remember that time we were in here all night, Emppu and Jukka too, studying?” 

She nodded, smiling as the memory came back to her. “We had snacks on the floor even though there was technically no food allowed, and we would shake whoever fell asleep until they woke up. I was trying to sing, and you were practicing for your piano final. There was this one section of a piece that you couldn’t get right, and you kept playing it over and over and over, and the three of us were going crazy, but there weren’t any other open rooms.”

Tuomas laughed, and she started giggling too. She could see the picture laid out in front of her, Tuomas at the piano, her standing in front of the music stand, Jukka tapping the back of her chair with pens as a makeshift drum set, and Emppu strumming his guitar in the corner. It had been chaos, but they had been happy.

They continued walking and reminiscing on the past as the light faded outside, going deeper into the school until they came to the larger rooms, one for the orchestra and the other for the choir. They both stopped at the doors, their hands still entwined between them.

“Tarja,” he said quietly. “This is …”

“Where we first met,” she finished. All music students had been required to take choir their first year, and she would never forget the first time she had seen him and how that shy smile and those deep blue eyes had made her heart flutter. A pang of nostalgia struck her again, more painful this time. This was where everything had started. What if things had been different?

“Do you ever sing anymore?” she asked him.

He shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips. “No, and the world thanks me for it.”

She lightly shoved his arm. “Hey, you didn’t sound bad. ‘The Carpenter’ was a big hit. You have a beautiful voice.”

“Your voice suits my songs much better.” 

Their eyes met, and he quickly looked away. “I’m sorry, I--”

“It’s okay, Tuomas,” she said, gently taking his other arm.

“I said I couldn’t write any more songs for you to sing, but I was wrong,” he admitted. “I still hear your voice in my head when I write, and I don’t know if that will ever go away.”

“It will,” she said. “When you find a new singer.”

He shook his head. “Even then.”

She inhaled and opened her mouth to say something, she didn’t know what, when he suddenly said, “I wish we could go back here. To that day. I would do so many things differently.”

“Like what?”

He glanced through the small window into the choir room and then back at her. His gaze didn’t waver from hers as he said, “I would have told you how I felt.”

Her heart jumped in her chest. “You … you mean you…”

“I felt for you, Tarja, yes,” he said quietly. 

She suddenly found it hard to swallow. “Marcelo said something once, but I thought he was just making it up to start drama or something.”

“No,” Tuomas said. 

Why was her heart beating out of her chest? He had said felt, as in a thing of the past. He certainly didn’t feel that way anymore, especially if the open letter had been anything to go by. And it shouldn’t matter to her anyway--she was married.

“Even back then?” she asked, finally breaking their held gazes and glancing toward the doors to the choir room. 

“Yes.”

“What did you see in me?” she whispered, shaking her head incredulously.

His eyes widened. “Are you kidding? Tarja, you lit up every room you walked into. With your smile, your laugh, with just your presence. I couldn’t look away. When we talked, you really listened. I could tell that you cared about what I was saying. And when I first heard you sing, I knew I was done for.”

A bitter laugh escaped her throat, and her gaze dropped to the wooden floor. “And then you saw who I really was.”

“No.”

Surprised, she looked up to see him shaking his head.

“That wasn’t you,” he said.

“It was, though. I know you hate Marcelo, Tuomas, but he’s not to blame for the way I acted. That was me. I … I got caught up in it all, and I let everything go to my head. I really did think I was irreplaceable, and Marcelo had nothing to do with that.” She took a shaky breath. “I want you to know, I cared about Nightwish. Those things I said on the flight from Toronto, I said in anger. I was upset. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” he said quietly. He opened his arms, and without any hesitation, she stepped into them. He gently ran his hand up and down her back.

“Were your songs about me?” she whispered against his chest.

“Yes. Almost all of them were, in one way or another.”

She inhaled sharply. This meant … those songs, those heart wrenching songs on Century Child and Once had been for her. That hadn’t been too long ago. She remembered reading the lyrics to “Forever Yours” for the first time and being unable to keep the tears from slipping down her cheeks. She had wondered what Tuomas had written it about because the lyrics had sounded too raw to be anything other than intensely personal, but she had never asked.

“Oh, Tuomas,” she whispered. “If only I had known.”

“Would it have changed anything?”

Instead of answering, she looked up at him and said, “Do you remember when you kissed me? Right here?”

He smiled. “Of course I do. How could I forget the first and only time I kissed you?”

It had been at the end-of-term Christmas party Professor Dimov had thrown them one year. The choir room had been transformed into a winter wonderland, with a sparkling Christmas tree in one corner, paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, and twinkle lights strung across the walls. Students milled about, snacking on sugar cookies and sipping cider and punch from the tables that were set up around the room. The professor played Christmas songs on the grand piano, and some of the students were gathered around him, singing along.

Tarja and Tuomas had been standing with Emppu and Jukka near the door, and as more friends had joined them, they had split off by themselves.

“Guys, look where Tarja and Tuomas are standing!” Empuu had said.

They looked up in unison to see the small sprig of mistletoe hanging from the doorway.

Their small group of spectators started chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” and soon it had spread to the other students in the room as well.

Tuomas had looked at her uncertainly, his cheeks flushed. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Just kiss me, Tuomas,” she had whispered.

He had reached out to cup her cheek, gently stroking his thumb over her cheekbone before pressing his lips to hers. She had closed her eyes, leaning into him, and the world went still and quiet for a moment. It had been a chaste kiss, and she remembered wishing it had lasted longer because before she knew it, he had pulled away and her surroundings came back into focus. Everyone was cheering and raising their glasses of cider to them.

He was looking at her with an expression in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place. Their gazes held for a moment, until she had leaned in and hugged him, whispering, “Merry Christmas, Tuomas.”

They had both been too shy to ever talk about it again.

“I had a crush on you,” she said now.

“Y--you did?” he stammered.

She smiled. “You were one of the only people who was nice to me. I couldn’t believe you were kissing me that night. That was my first kiss, you know.”

“It was?”

She nodded.

“It was mine too,” he said. “I wanted to tell you how I felt afterward, but I was too scared that you didn’t feel the same. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

She wasn’t sure what caused her to say what came out of her mouth next--if it was the nostalgia of being back in their old school, being in the arms of her old best friend, or the way he was looking at her.

“Kiss me, Tuomas,” she said.

He blinked as if trying to make sure he had heard her correctly.

“Kiss me like you did back then. Pretend we’re at that party again.”

“Tari …” he whispered, and without any further hesitation, he took her face in his hands, cradling it gently. She closed her eyes, and she felt the gentle pressure of his lips against hers a second later.

She reached up to entwine her fingers behind his neck and bring herself closer to him. She felt his tongue on her lips, asking for permission, which she gladly gave, parting her lips and allowing his tongue inside her mouth. He pressed her against the door to the choir room and slid his hands down to her waist, deepening the kiss further.

“Tuo,” she whispered breathlessly when they finally separated.

“My siren.” He was looking at her like he couldn’t quite believe she was real.

“Can we go somewhere?”

He took her hand again. “I know a place.”

So we could call it even  
You could call me babe for the weekend  
'Tis the damn season, write this down  
I'm stayin' at my parents' house  
And the road not taken looks real good now  
And it always leads to you and my hometown

* * *

Tarja shrieked as Tuomas pushed her into the freezing cold water of the lake outside the cabin. They had gone to his island, and she had borrowed one of his sister’s swimsuits--a turquoise bikini with beading around the edges--to go in the sauna.

Tuomas jumped in after her. “You’ve been away from Finland too long,” he said, swimming over next to her where she was treading water, her teeth chattering.

“Maybe,” she said. “But you have to admit this water is freezing.”

He put his arms around her. “I promise I’ll warm you up when we get back inside,” he growled against her neck.

They started kissing back in the sauna, and they hadn’t made it past the doorway leading back into the cabin before her hands were already sliding down his chest and stomach to hook into the waistband of his swim trunks. He pressed her against the wall and started planting kisses across her jawline and down her neck.

She gasped as his teeth grazed her sensitive skin. He reached behind her and tried to untie her bikini top.

“How did you tie this thing?” he mumbled, and she giggled, pushing herself off the wall and grabbing it from the bottom, pulling it over her head. She saw his eyes darken as her breasts came into view.

He kissed her deeply, and she began working his swim trunks down, pressing her hips to his.

“Tarja,” he said, pulling away and gently tucking a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Her mind cleared, guilt settling into her throat. Ever since they had kissed in the school, she had been on a high and her head had been in the clouds. She hadn’t thought about her real life, back in Argentina. But now it was impossible not to. She was about to cheat on her husband.

But she looked into Tuomas’s ocean eyes and knew she wouldn’t be able to say no. She could never tell Marcelo. She would just have to bury this deep down in her heart, where her feelings for Tuomas had lain all those years.

“Yes,” she whispered. “But Tuo, you know I can’t--I mean, this can’t’--”

“I know, siren,” he said, stroking his hand over her hair. “I don’t expect anything. I know you can’t stay. Just let me pretend for one night that you’re mine.”

Without another word, she kissed him again, and he picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he carried her down the hall to the bedroom. He lay her down on the bed and slipped his hand into her bikini bottoms.

She gasped and threw her head back. “Tuomas, God, please. No teasing. I need you.” 

She reached up and pulled him down on top of her, yanking his swim shorts the rest of the way off.

“As you wish, my beauty,” he said, and sealed the distance between them with a searing kiss.

When it was over, he held her close, tucking her head under his chin.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered.

“I know.”

They were both still breathing hard. They had made love twice, the first time rough and passionate, the second time slow and tender. He had taken his time exploring every inch of her skin, finding the spots that made her go crazy and bringing her to the edge at an agonizing pace.

Her throat felt hoarse from screaming, and she was fairly certain she had left marks on his back from how hard her nails had dug into his skin.

She separated herself from him just enough so that she could look into his eyes, and she began drawing lazy circles on his chest with her index finger.

“That was … wow,” she said, a smile inching across her face as she felt herself getting lost in his eyes again.

“I love you, Tarja.”

Her finger stopped in its path, and she sat up, pulling the sheet to her chest. She suddenly felt wide awake. “I--”

“You don’t have to say anything back. I just needed you to know.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead gently. “Good night, my love.”

They lay back down, and she was finally able to come out of her shock. “I love you too, Tuomas.” she whispered, nestling her head against his chest. “I always have.”

* * *  
Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake  
I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay

She woke up the next morning and was momentarily disoriented when she blinked her eyes open. Then she saw the familiar face of her childhood friend staring down at her fondly, and she smiled.

“Good morning,” she whispered.

He smiled back. “Good morning.”

She rolled over, glancing at the clock on the bedside table, which read 10:21.

“It’s late,” she mumbled, burrowing back under the covers.

“Yes, it is,” Tuomas said, a smile playing on his lips. “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up.”

She giggled, pulling the covers over her head.

“I made breakfast.”

She peeked her head back out. “You did?”

He nodded. “It’s in the kitchen. I’ve been keeping it warm.”

She started getting up, but he gently pulled her back down. “I’ll bring it to you, love.”

“Okay,” she said, throwing him a playful grin as he got up and threw a t-shirt on over his boxers.

She found her bra and underwear from the small pile she had left her clothes in from the day before when she had changed to go in the sauna, and she put them on before climbing back into bed.

Tuomas re-entered the room a moment later carrying a tray laden with oatmeal, coffee, eggs and fruit.

“This looks amazing,” she said as he set it down and slipped under the covers next to her, arranging the tray between them. “You’re perfect.”

He gently bopped her nose. “You’re perfect too.”

After they were done eating, they sipped the remains of their coffee in silence, her head resting on his shoulder. She didn’t want to leave the warm cocoon of his arms and break the spell of this perfect moment.

But she knew she couldn’t stay in this fantasy world forever. She tilted her head to look up at him, and the sadness in the deep oceans of his eyes told her that he was thinking the same thing.

“I should get going,” she whispered.

He gently stroked her hair away from her face and cupped her cheek. His gaze became even more intense, as if he was trying to memorize her face. Finally, he nodded.

He picked up the tray and carried it back to the kitchen, and she slid out of bed to get dressed, feeling suddenly cold.

So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends  
Who'll write books about me if I ever make it  
And wonder about the only soul  
Who can tell which smiles I'm fakin'  
And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own  
To leave the warmest bed I've ever known

“Got everything?” he asked, appearing by the door as she was putting on her coat.

She nodded.

“Alright,” he said quietly.

“Tuo, I’m sorry--” she began helplessly, but he gently pressed a finger to her lips.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, and pulled her into his arms one last time.

She clung to him, trying to memorize the feeling of his warm body against hers, the faint scent of pine soap from his skin, the roughness of his beard against her forehead.

“Can I kiss you one more time?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and he pressed his lips to hers.

She reluctantly opened her eyes again as he pulled away. “Goodbye, Tuomas.”

“Bye, Tari.”

She had her hand on the door handle when he said, “Tarja?”

She turned around.

“Are you happy?”

She knew the unspoken second part of his question--with him?. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I am.”

He nodded slowly.

“Tuomas--”

He held his hand up. “That’s all I needed to know. I just needed to know that you’re going to be … okay.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

He was silent for a moment. “I will be,” he finally said. “And Tarja?”

“Yes?”

“If you ever need me, you know where to find me.”

She smiled. “Yes, I do.” She slowly pushed the door open and stepped outside, the cold enveloping her once more. She turned around one more time. “Merry Christmas, Tuomas.”

The corners of his mouth kicked up into a smile as well. “Merry Christmas.”

We could call it even  
Even though I'm leaving  
And I'll be yours for the weekend  
'Tis the damn season


End file.
